


Unlikely Allies

by ammiehawk



Category: Gundam Wing, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2018-06-10 09:45:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6951334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ammiehawk/pseuds/ammiehawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Voldemort’s been defeated and the Ministry is enforcing a new marriage law. What is Harry Potter to do? How will he cope with a new spouse? And how the hell does a brother fit in to the picture? Slight AU HP verse, ignores DH and most of HBP. 3 years after Endless Waltz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fall of Moldywarts

Unlikely Allies

By Ammie Hawk

 

Summary: Voldemort’s been defeated and the Ministry is enforcing a new marriage law. What is Harry Potter to do? How will he cope with a new spouse? And how the hell does a brother fit in to the picture? Slight AU HP verse, ignores DH and most of HBP. 3 years after Endless Waltz.

 

AN: I found this thing years ago for overcoming Writer’s Block, modified it a bit and this is what I came up with. This story has been posted before, however, I abandoned it, thinking I’d lost the general idea, but it recently came back and bit me, so here is my newest attempt at getting this fic up and running.

AU bits: ignores all of book seven, only little things were taken here and there, and most of six, no horcruxes; Sirius, Albus, and several others are still alive; and some people are going to be very OOC.

 

Prologue: The Fall of Moldywarts

 

“Hey, Potter,” Draco Malfoy sneered at him from his spot next to the double doors of Hogwarts.

It had been a Hogsmeade weekend, the final one of the term, just after the exams, and he was returning early, as he had a meeting with Dumbledore on how best to go about killing Voldemort and fulfilling the prophecy in their favor, as they had done frequently throughout the year.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” Harry gave a long-suffering sigh, used to his rival’s taunts and insults.

“I just wanted to give you this,” he held out his hand, revealing what looked to be a Remembrall.

“And what would I want with that?” the raven haired teen scoffed.

“Catch!”

Malfoy tossed the ball into the air and Harry, acting on his seeker instincts, reached out and grabbed it. It didn’t register, until he felt the familiar tug behind his navel, that this was a trap. He was suspected that Malfoy was a Death Eater all that year, and he’d just waltzed right into it, didn’t he.

He landed in, what appeared to be, the entrance hall of an old run-down house. He didn’t have a chance to move, or even look around, before a full body-bind was placed on him from behind.

“Tsk, tsk, Potter,” the Death Eater stepped from the shadows and peered down at the immobile teen through his mask. “You are so predictable.”

The masked figure reached down and snatched Harry’s wand from the floor, quickly tucking it up his sleeve before levitating the teen and taking him further into the house. They entered a large room with a raised dais at the far end, on which Voldemort sat on a throne like seat, staring down at Harry.

“Ah, Harry Potter, we meet again,” the snake like man hissed in an almost crooning way.

Harry just glared at his enemy, unable to talk from the body-bind he was still under.

“His wand, Severus,” Voldemort held out his hand to the Death Eater beside Harry.

The Death Eater, he now realized was his Potions professor, Severus Snape, reached into his pocket and withdrew a wand and presented it to his master with a bow. The Dark Lord took it in his hands reverently, eyeing it with appreciation. Then his red eyes turned to look at his captive once more.

Harry, however, wasn’t paying attention to his nemesis. His eyes were focused on the Death Eater that was his Potions professor, which anyone watching would’ve thought looked like a glare of betrayal and disbelief. Though in truth it was confusion, he knew Snape had taken his wand, but he could’ve sworn he’d seen him slip it up his sleeve and not put it in his pocket. Could his eyes have been playing tricks on him?

“A splendid wand you have here, Potter,” pale tapered fingers ran up it lovingly, before taking an end in each hand and neatly snapping it in half. “Oh, but it now appears to be broken. Tsk,” he clicked his tongue, “so much for that. Now, Harry Potter, I am going to kill you. But we can’t have you just lying there like that.”

He flicked his wand over Harry and the spell binding him fell away. The raven haired teen pushed to his feet and glared into the red eyes without fear. If he was going to die, he was going to face it, not cower on the ground like a whipped dog.

“Very good, Potter,” Voldemort gave a chuckling hiss. “Now, before I kill you, do you have any last words? Anything you’d like for me to tell your friends before they follow you in death?”

“Bastard,” Harry spat at the Dark Lord’s feet. “You’ll never defeat me.”

Before very surprised crimson eyes, Harry Potter began to change. It took only a matter of seconds before the boy was transformed into a tiger, but not just any tiger, a black tiger with white stripes traveling all over his sleek body, one even shaped like a bolt of lightning on his forehead over piercing green eyes.

“Impressive, Potter,” Voldemort shook his head, as if he didn’t believe his own words. “But I’m afraid turning into a pussy cat won’t save you from death.”

The tiger lowered itself to the ground, a low growl emitting from its throat, watching his enemy with calculating eyes. The Dark Lord raised his wand, pointing it directly at the large feline before him. This was going to be too easy, two words and the foolish boy’s life would be over. He had thought about drawing it out, but found that with Potter in this form, he just couldn’t give him the glorious death he’d planned. If Potter was giving up, fine, he wouldn’t be remembered, except as a sad excuse for a hero. But as he opened his mouth to say the curse, the tiger pounced, grabbing his wand hand in a vice-like grip between sharp teeth. Voldemort screamed in pain, trying in vain to pull his hand free from the feline’s maw. He felt the bones crush under the weight of the bite and the skin tear as his wand clattered to the floor from his now useless hand.

Without warning, the tiger released him and jumped after the fallen wand. The beast’s front paw landed on the thin strip of wood, splintering it into at least five pieces. The pale man screamed again, this time in rage. How dare that whelp do that to his wand?

The Death Eaters around the room stood frozen in their places, unable to come to their Lord’s aid. This could’ve been because of the silent body-bind systematically placed on them while they were distractedly watching the tiger tear apart their master’s hand. Harry didn’t know who’d cast the nonverbal spells, whether it was an invisible person in the room or one of the Death Eaters themselves, but he was grateful nonetheless.

The tiger prowled over to the Potions Master, his eyes never leaving his wounded enemy. When he was within an arm’s distance, he transformed back into a human. Without taking his eyes from Voldemort, he began reaching up the man’s sleeve.

“Sorry, Professor Snape,” he said sarcastically, realizing the man wasn’t petrified like the others, “but since you decided to take my wand from me, I’m afraid I’ll have to take yours now.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Potions Master’s lip twitched in a flash of a smirk, but it was gone so quickly he could’ve just been imagining things. Harry almost cried in relief as he felt his own wand slip free of the holster the spy had put it in. He was immensely glad he didn’t give away his professor’s true position, no matter how much he despised the man, he didn’t want to see him dead, as Voldemort was now looking for a wand among his petrified Death Eaters.

“Wormtail, give me your wand!” Voldemort held out his uninjured hand for the rat Animagus to hand it over.

Wormtail didn’t move, seeing as he couldn’t, but his eyes darted over to Harry for a moment, almost pleading with the teen to come to his aid. Sadly for him, the snake faced bastard caught it. He snatched the traitor’s wand from his side and cast the killing curse on him. Emerald eyes hardened at the sight. True, Wormtail deserved a lot for what he had done to Harry’s parents, but he didn’t deserve to die like that, no one did.

“You’ve gone too far, Voldemort,” Harry growled, sounding almost like his Animagus form. “I’m surprised anyone would follow you. You just killed one of your more loyal followers, for what? For turning to your enemy? Or was it for not handing over his wand? Can’t you see, Tom? Every one of your followers is petrified. He couldn’t have given you his wand if he wanted to. You are a deranged old fool. Peter knew I’d never come to his rescue, he betrayed my parents. While I might have saved his life once, that was the only time, and it wasn’t for his sake. He owed me his life, he knew that. Now what are you going to do, Tom? Are you going to try and kill me with someone else’s wand? One whose life was honor bound to protect mine? Or are you just going to stand there and stare at me, like the fool you are?”

Voldemort had been staring at the teen through his entire speech, his red eyes slowly glowing with rage at each word. He didn’t register the fact that all his followers were unable to help him, so blinded was he by his hatred. Finally, he raised the wand and pointed it directly at Harry’s heart.

_“Avada—”_

_“Expelliarmus,”_ Harry flicked his wand casually, sending the wand flying out of Voldemort’s hand. “Did you honestly think that would work? I’ve improved, Tom. I’m not scared of you. You’re just a scared old man, who doesn’t want to face death. I almost welcome it. If we both die here, I really don’t care. I’ll be reunited with my parents. What about you, Tom? Who’s waiting for you when you die?”

“Shut up!” the snake faced man screamed. “The only one who’s going to die today, Potter, is you.”

“I’ll destroy you first,” Harry shook his head. “Don’t you understand? I’m not going down without taking you with me. Try and kill me if you can, but know that you will be going with me into death. Do I want to die here? No, I don’t. I’d like to see my friends again and have a family some day. But am I willing to die here? Yes, I am. I’m willing to give up my life so they can have a happy future, without fear of you.”

Voldemort’s eyes were now so full of rage it was almost blinding, but Harry didn’t care, he knew what he had to do. Without warning, the Dark Lord charged at the teen, magic momentarily forgotten.

 _“Sectumsempra,”_ Harry made a slicing movement with his wand, creating a large gash on Voldemort’s chest.

“What’s this?” his enemy scoffed, looking down at the blood now soaking his robes. “Not going to just kill me? You may talk big, Potter, but I know you. I can see inside your head, remember?”

“And yet you haven’t been looking,” the raven haired teen shrugged. “It’s not my fault you can’t stand to be inside my head. Oh wait, maybe it is. Anyway, if you’d bothered to look, you’d have discovered that I’m not going to be like you. I’m not going to just kill you at the drop of a hat. I don’t want to have to kill you, but I, unlike you, know that I need to. There is a prophecy to fulfill after all. And considering that ‘either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives,’ I take it that one of us is going to have to die. I will be gracious enough to end this quickly, but I will not stoop to your level, Tom. I will not sacrifice my soul to kill you with that curse, even if I do have permission to.”

“So, you’ll be noble in not breaking the law,” Voldemort chuckled darkly, “but inhumane enough not to just end it? All for the sake of your soul? So much for the self-sacrificing Gryffindor everyone expects to save them.”

“Inhumane would be my leaving here to bleed to death from that curse I just used,” Harry shook his head. “But I’m not going to do that. I will end this, and I will end it swiftly. _Accio_ sword!”

Voldemort looked confused for a moment, but then a faint gleam entered his eyes as he watched the teen waiting for his summoned item. Acting quickly, he dove for his ‘borrowed’ wand. Once his hand wrapped around it, he rolled onto his back, intending to aim it at the boy, but found a long sword pointed at his throat. His eyes traveled up the blade, then the arm holding it, till they finally came to rest on the green eyes of Harry Potter.

“You’re going to kill me with a sword, Potter?” he spat, almost raising his arm but with a gentle nudge from the blade, decided against it.

“I thought it fitting,” Harry smirked. “I faced your basilisk with this sword, and defeated it, why not you? Goodbye, Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

He brought the sword up in a small arc, as Voldemort raised his wand, and brought it cleanly down across the pale, bared throat. The head separated from the body, mouth open forming the beginning of a spell, and red eyes staring in lifeless disbelief at the raven-haired teen.

Pandemonium reigned in the background as Order of the Phoenix members appeared and began rounding up the remaining Death Eaters, a couple of them had managed to break the spell on them and apparated out, but not many. But Harry Potter was oblivious to it all. The sword of Gryffindor slipped from his hand as he fell to his knees, retching violently.

He felt a strong hand on his shoulder, which gave a brief, reassuring squeeze before being removed. He then felt two people almost bowl him over, and he knew in that moment that it was his two best friends, Ron and Hermione. He turned to his female friend and buried his face in her shoulder and wept.


	2. Surprises

Chapter 1: Surprises

 

Lady Une stared around at the six faces of her top agents. Their timing couldn’t have been worse. She had been about to summon one of them into her office for an urgent meeting. But now, all six of them wanted time off.

Not that she really blamed them, it was a special circumstance after all. It wasn’t every day that one of their number was getting married. But why now? Couldn’t they have arranged for it to take place earlier? Or even come in later?

“Let me see if I understand this correctly,” she glanced from one face to the next, her eyes hard, but her agents could all read the pleading note hidden in the brown depths. “At the beginning of next month, Mr. Barton is to be married?” the unibanged teen in front of her nodded. “And the rest of you just happen to need the time off between now and then, to help with his coming nuptials?”

“That is correct, Lady Une,” the small blond agent smiled bemusedly at her gobsmacked expression, his eyes darting over to his lover, then on to his best friend, the man in question.

“I sure as hell hope I’m invited to the ceremony,” she snapped out, leveling a glare at the auburn haired agent.

“But of course, Lady Une,” Trowa Barton gave her a small, rarely seen, smile, withdrew a small envelope from his uniform pocket, and placed it on her desk.

Continuing to glare, she snatched it up and pulled the card out. She only broke eye contact when she had the invitation unfolded and then quickly read the contents. Her mouth fell open in shock as she reread the date.

“Barton!” she nearly shouted. “This date is only three days away. What the hell were you thinking?!”

“My fiancé and I have been together for over three years now,” the green eyed teen shook his head slightly. “Engaged for the past year. The only reason we waited this long is because he had some previous obligations to sort out before he felt he could marry me. As for the date, he wanted it in the summer, but after one of his family member’s birthdays, so as not to ruin the day for him.”

“Oh very well,” she scowled. “I’ll see if I can arrange for myself, Sally, and Noin to also take the time off to attend the ceremony. Though who I will put in charge with all of us gone is beyond me. Let’s just hope the world doesn’t come to an end in the space of a day.”

“Yes!” the braided teen, who had miraculously remained silent before this point, jumped to his feet. “We’re going to England! And Tro-man’s finally getting married!”

“Maxwell,” the Chinese teen on the other side of the row glared at him, “please try to refrain.” He then turned his attention to his commander, “I would also like to request the following week off, Lady Une. My boyfriend has a brother who is getting married in the same time frame, and he’s asked me to accompany him to said event.”

“Of course, Chang,” she nodded. “However, I expect the rest of you,” she glared at the four other agents in the room, aside from Barton and Chang, “back to work on the second.”

“Affirmative,” the messy haired brunet nodded.

“We’ll check in at the London branch first thing in the morning on the second,” the tall, long haired blond said dismissively. “Until then, I believe we should be going.”

“Wait,” she held up her hand, finally remembering what she’d wanted to do before this hurricane had struck. “Mr. Barton, I wanted a word with you. It is up to you whether the others stay or go, but I feel that this is a sensitive matter.”

“They may stay,” the unibanged teen answered without batting an eye, not surprising anyone in the room, the six young men were exceedingly close after all.

“Very well,” she sighed and opened the folder on her desk. “This file belongs to a very special case in the Family Reconstruction Act. We, meaning myself and Dr. Po, have been sitting on this for a few years now, as we had no current information on the young man in question. However, due to recent events in this young man’s life, we felt the need to inform you, Trowa Barton, that you have a brother.”

“Why did you not tell me before?” the one visible green eye narrowed slightly in confusion.

“At the age of eleven, he seemed to disappear off the face of the Earth,” Une shook her head. “However, at the end of June, his custody was signed over from your aunt, which there was no record of him living there at all, to the recently cleared, escaped convict Sirius Black. We have no records of Black’s current location, but if anyone were able to find him, I put my faith in you. Now, whether you choose to meet with your brother or not, is entirely up to you. I just felt the need to inform you as the situation is highly suspicious. And know that if you do want to pursue this and have his custody transferred over to you, you have my full support.”

“Thank you, Lady Une,” Trowa nodded, his brows furrowed in his version of a frown. “I will see what I can find. Do you have a name for this brother of mine?”

“His name,” she smiled slightly, knowing this would be his reaction, “is Harry Potter.”

She pulled a photo of the boy, taken at the age of ten, out of the folder and handed it to the former clown, who in turn passed it to the others around the room.

888888

“Harry!”

Harry Potter, age seventeen, propped one eye open to see who was disturbing his slumber, troubled as it was. He had been dreaming of the final battle again, and even in his dreams he was troubled by the act he had had to commit. He knew what he had done was for a good reason but it didn’t change the fact that he’d taken another human being’s life, even if it was just Voldemort.

Everyone around him told him that it was okay, but it wasn’t. He knew that if he ever thought that way, he’d be no better than Voldemort was. As strange as it sounded, he wasn’t going to regret killing the snake faced bastard, he’d rid the world of an evil tyrant, but he wasn’t going to brush it off as okay. He had still killed him, true, it wasn’t in cold blood, but his blood stained his hands, whether others chose to see it or not.

“Harry! Get your ass down here, you’ve got presents to open!” his godfather’s voice rang throughout the house once again.

The young wizard smiled slightly as he recalled the circumstances surrounding his current residence. Shortly after the final battle, his godfather, Sirius Black, had been cleared of all charges, since the Ministry now had the body of the rat who had framed him. As soon as the papers went through the dog Animagus had traveled to Surrey and had Harry’s custody transferred over to him.

With a face splitting grin, Harry tore out of bed and raced out of his room. He sprinted down the stairs, two at a time, and came to a sliding stop outside the drawing room door where Sirius and Remus Lupin, his godfather’s current boyfriend, were seated on the loveseat. He shot into the room and practically threw himself at the two men. Sirius stood up and caught him in an enormous hug.

“Happy birthday, pup,” he said, setting the teen back on his feet. “Your friends sent you presents.”

With another grin, and a quick hug to Remus, he went over and began opening the presents and corresponding letters on the coffee table. From Ron he received a thin book on how to charm witches, which he quickly cast aside, considering he wasn’t into girls. Apparently, the twins had given his best mate a copy on his seventeenth birthday. He got a pocket watch from Sirius, as was tradition; a new Sneakoscope from Hermione; a box of foodstuff from Mrs. Weasley, which he shared with the two adults as a sort of makeshift breakfast as he continued opening his gifts; a box of the latest Weasley Wizarding Wheezes from the twins; a box of the best Honeydukes chocolate from Remus; and finally, an enchanted razor from Bill and his fiancé, who were getting married the following day, though no one had met this mysterious fiancé of his.

“Looks like a good haul, pup,” Sirius grinned, taking another bite of Harry’s birthday cake.

“I know,” he smiled, looking down at all the gifts. “Though, I’m surprised by Ron’s gift, he knows I’m into blokes. Maybe he’s just hoping I’ll change my mind.”

“He’s in denial,” Sirius said knowledgably. “James was the same way when I came out. But don’t worry, he’ll get over it.”

Just then a delivery owl flew in with the morning edition of the _Daily Prophet_. Remus took it from the bird and paid for the paper, before it flew back out through the window. He unfolded the paper and promptly dropped it in surprise after reading the front page headline. His actions caught the attention of the other two wizards and they both turned to him in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked his surrogate godfather.

“The Minister passed a Marriage Law,” the werewolf shook his head and smoothed out the paper so they could all read it.

_Marriage Law Enacted!_

_Today, the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, passed a law forcing all eligible witches and wizards to report to the Ministry for registration. Eligible includes: persons from seventeen to fifty years of age who are single, divorced, or widowed. By the law, all persons of legal age or older must marry by one month from today, or be in a formal engagement. If anyone does not comply with this law, the Ministry will arrange the partners accordingly._

_This law, according to Minister Fudge, is to help increase the Wizarding population. In light of the recent downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the Wizarding world needs to strengthen its numbers or it will be overrun once more, says Fudge. Continued on pg 3._

“That’s bullshit!” Harry spat out. “They can’t force anyone to get married!”

“Actually, they can,” Remus shook his head sadly. “It’s an outdated custom, that has not been enforced in over a century, but apparently, the Minister decided to reinstate it. And don’t worry, Harry, we’ll find you and Sirius someone within the given deadline.”

Harry was about to say something when they heard a sharp rapping on the door. Sirius and Remus exchanged a look before sending Harry upstairs to get dressed, as he was still only in the t-shirt and boxers he’d worn to bed, as they made their way downstairs to answer the door. A few minutes later, Sirius entered the room, ashen faced and shaking. He sat down heavily on Harry’s bed and gave his godson an apologetic look.

“That was Kingsley,” he finally said after a moment’s silence. “Apparently, Fudge wants to make an example of how serious he is about this new law. He has instructed several Aurors to gather all the prominent figures of the Order, who fit into the category or known about, to impose his new law on. He figures if the Order is complying, the rest of the community will follow.”

“So he wants us to go register?” he asked, slightly confused.

“I’m not sure, Harry,” his godfather ran his hand through his hair in agitation. “But Kingsley is waiting downstairs to escort the three of us to the Ministry.”

“Fine,” the young wizard gave a sigh of defeat and followed Sirius out of the room and back down the stairs.

Once the four of them were outside the wards of 12 Grimmauld Place, they apparated away, Kingsley doing sidelong with Harry.


	3. Marriages in Haste

Chapter 2: Marriages in Haste

 

The four of them arrived, a moment later, in the atrium of the Ministry. Harry looked around, noticing that there weren’t many people there at this early hour. The fountain still stood as proud as it had before the battle in the Department of Mysteries, little over a year ago. In fact, nothing much had changed about the Ministry of Magic. He was brought from his musings as Kingsley led them over to a desk to check in their wands.

After they were done with that, Kingsley led the three wizards down a long corridor. They continued on in silence until they came to a stop outside a closed door.

“Here we are,” Kingsley’s deep voice broke the silence. “And this is where I leave you. If they are not already here, then the others should be here shortly. Fudge should be here in half an hour to talk with all of you. I wish you luck, for that is all I can do.”

With that somewhat cryptic remark, the Auror turned and left back the way they had come. Harry turned to face the door as Sirius turned the handle, his anxiety rising. He wasn’t sure this was such a good thing anymore, or simple for that matter. Fudge had been known to take advice from some seriously deranged individuals in the past. Subconsciously, he rubbed at his right hand, remembering his detentions with Fudge’s right hand woman when they tried to interfere at Hogwarts.

“Harry!”

As soon as the door opened, two very excitable girls were charging at the Boy-Who-Lived. Sirius and Remus tried to stifle their laughter as the girls latched themselves onto the birthday boy’s arms.

“Can you believe this?” Hermione said exasperatedly, dragging him over to a group of other people. “Fudge thinks he’ll actually get away with this stupid Marriage Law. And it looks like he’s going to impose his ruling on all of us first.”

Harry let her words flow over him without really paying much attention, he was too busy seeing who else Fudge had decided to gather. He wasn’t surprised that he, Ron, and Hermione were there, as he was the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Defeat-Voldemort-A-Second-Time and they were his best friends. Nor was he surprised that Sirius and Remus had been dragged there with him, Sirius was his godfather and guardian after all. But what did surprise him was that all the other Weasley children, minus Percy, were there as well, including Ginny, who wasn’t even of age yet, and Bill, who was engaged to be married the very next day. There was also a strange Asian man he’d never seen before. But he nodded to all of them in greeting anyway.

“So,” he looked around at all of them, “anyone thought about who they’d like to marry?”

“Um, Harry,” Hermione bit her lip nervously. “I don’t think that’s why we’re here. Didn’t you read the article?”

“I read the first page,” Harry looked at the bushy haired witch in confusion.

“Here,” she rolled her eyes in exasperation and handed him the _Daily Prophet_.

Harry turned to page three so he could continue the story, Remus and Sirius peering over his shoulder to do likewise.

_‘Continued from pg 1. In accordance with this new law, all witches and wizards must be registered no later than their sixteenth birthday. Minister Fudge claims that this law will bring about a long time of peace within the Wizarding community, especially after the unrest of the past few years.’_

Harry scoffed before continuing to read, skimming most of it as it was just more bullshit about Fudge.

_‘As the Minister is trying his best to bring this balance, he reserves the right to choose the partner for any person.’_

“What?!” Harry looked up as he came to the bottom of the article, Remus scowled as he took the paper from him. “He can’t do that! He can’t pick someone’s partner! He’s gone completely mental!”

“I agree with you, mate,” Ron shook his head sadly, “as does Dad and Mum. But he’s the Minister and unless we want to kick him out of office today, there’s nothing we can do about it. Too bad the Death Eaters didn’t take him out before they were rounded up.”

“Oh yeah, cause they would’ve taken out the loudest voice of denial about Voldemort’s return,” Harry rolled his eyes. “Fudge was the best thing that happened to the Death Eaters since Voldemort returned.”

“If you want him removed, I would suggest assassination, personally,” the strange man spoke up. “And if you’d like, I could call in a specialist for the job, or I could do it myself.”

“Who the hell is this guy?” Fred, or was it George, pointed at the Asian.

“My name is Wufei Chang,” his onyx eyes narrowed dangerously, his hand falling automatically to his waistband, where Harry could just make out the outline of a gun. “I would suggest you show a bit of respect.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Chang,” Harry cut in, his eyes never leaving the firearm. “But are you allowed to have a gun in here?”

The Chinese man turned a critical eye on the Savior of the Wizarding World, taking in every detail of his face, before his eyes widened slightly in recognition. Before he could answer him, however, Charlie cut in, slipping his arm around the shocked man’s waist.

“To answer your questions,” the dragon handler rolled his eyes. “Fred, this is my boyfriend, so play nice. And Harry, he is a Muggle Preventer, he’s allowed to carry a gun wherever he pleases.”

“Oh,” Hermione nodded, before her eyes widened in recognition. “Oh. You’ll have to forgive him, sir, he’s a bit of an idiot.”

“Hey!” the raven haired teen protested.

“Anyway, back to what I was saying earlier, Harry,” she turned her attention back to her friend. “I think Fudge plans on marrying all of us off, unless we’re in a formal engagement, which out of all of us present, only applies to Bill.”

“Well then,” Harry chuckled, that didn’t seem like a big deal, “let’s all get engaged. Charlie and Mr. Chang here can get together; you, Mione, can go with Ron; Remus and Sirius should’ve been engaged before now, but still; I’ll take Fred… Damn, that leaves George and Ginny without someone.”

“It doesn’t work that way, mate,” Fred shook his head sadly. “Not that I’d be opposed to marrying you, but it has to be formal—”

“Which means,” George took over for his twin, “that at the very least, we have to have told the paper of our upcoming nuptials.”

“Shit!” Harry almost growled in frustration. “He planned this. I know he did.”

“Of course he did, Harry,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “He’s been trying to control you since third year, now he’s got you under his thumb with this dumb law, which conveniently was announced on your seventeenth birthday.”

“Well,” Bill said slowly. “Harry did have a point. Charlie could get out of all this, doesn’t help Harry at all, but it will put a dent in Fudge’s plans.”

“How?” Remus turned to him curiously. “I mean, I know I am exempt from this new law, but how can we get someone else out of it?”

Bill nodded toward Wufei, “If he’s willing, he could get engaged to my brother. I mean, Muggles only need a ring to have a formal engagement, trust me, I only told the papers as a nicety. As I said, doesn’t help Harry at all, but it could keep Charlie out of Fudge’s messed up scheme.”

“What?!” the twins cried out in unison. “You’re engaged to a Muggle?!”

“That’s what you two took out of that?” the werewolf frowned.

“Very well,” the Chinese youth nodded, cutting off any other comment, that was a logical plan.

“No, Fei,” Charlie protested. “You don’t have to throw your life away for me.”

“Charlie,” Wufei snapped, turning to face the redhead, “I may not have known you for long, but I care for you. That is why I consented to be your boyfriend. I do not do things idly and the same goes for this. I will not make you suffer the same fate I once did. If I can stop this then I shall. And if you will not agree to marry me, I’ll marry Mr. Potter myself, if only to keep him from this twisted scheme!”

His hand rose to the collar of his shirt and he reached down and pulled a long chain into view. Seemingly without a care, he ripped the chain from around his neck and dangled it in front of the startled blue eyes of the dragon handler. At the very end of the chain sat a simple gold band. With trembling hands, Charlie reached up and encircled the small ring in his fists, slowly going down to one knee before the determined Preventer agent.

“Chang Wufei, would you do me the honor of marrying me?” he looked up into onyx eyes, almost pleading for him to say no.

“Yes,” the former Gundam pilot nodded.

Charlie stood up and slipped the ring on Wufei’s finger, the band sat on his left ring finger as if it had been made for the Chinese man. There was a round of applause, along with catcalls from the twins, at this. Then, one by one, all the Weasleys came up and welcomed the newest member to their family, or at least he would be soon enough.

“So, Remus,” Hermione turned to the werewolf when things had settled down a bit, “why are you exempt from this new law?”

“Werewolf Code of Conduct,” he bowed his head embarrassedly.

“Oh,” Hermione’s brow furrowed in thought, as if trying to remember something about the Code, knowing her though, she probably was.

“ _Hem, hem,_ ” a very feminine voice said from behind them.

They all turned and saw that Fudge had entered the room, followed by his ever present toad, Umbridge. Fudge surveyed them, his eyes lingering hungrily on Harry briefly.

“Welcome,” he smirked broadly at all of them. “Now, I suppose you’ve all read about the new law that has been passed. Good,” he said when they all nodded. “Now in accordance with that law, I have arranged for all of you to be married today.”

“But sir,” Hermione interrupted, we haven’t even registered yet. “You don’t even know our preferences.”

“That is why I called all of you here,” he smiled, undeterred. “So, young lady, what is your preference?”

“I prefer guys,” she held her head high, not wanting to show this man any sign of weakness.

Umbridge wrote something on her ever present clipboard many of them had become familiar with from her tenure at school.

“And you, Miss Weasley?” Fudge continued.

“Guys,” she shrugged, she wasn’t even of age yet, it didn’t bother her too much.

“Mr. Weasley?” he looked expectantly at Ron.

“Guys,” the twins said in unison, messing with Fudge as he had said their last name as well.

“Oh, sorry, I forgot there were so many of you,” Fudge chuckled nervously. “Mr. Ronald Weasley?”

“Girls,” he blushed brilliantly under the pressure.

“And you two?” he turned to the elder two Weasleys.

“It doesn’t matter what we prefer,” Bill gave him a stern look, which could rival one from Mrs. Weasley, “as we are both formally engaged.”

“Oh, right,” Fudge quelled under the look. “I do remember reading about your engagement. Yours, however,” he turned to Charlie, “I have not. So how are you in a formal engagement if it was not in the papers?”

“I’m engaged to a Muggle,” Charlie shrugged. “I don’t have to submit anything to the papers for that type of union, all I have to do is show the Muggle world my claim, which he has on his finger.”

He slipped his arm around Wufei and extended his left hand, showing off the ring he’d placed there not two minutes ago. Fudge seemed at a loss for a moment before shaking his head and turning to the two older wizards in the room.

“Mr. Black, your preference, if you will?” he asked, though not as forcefully as before, their plan to wrong foot him had worked.

“I don’t care,” Sirius looked down at his hand, not paying much attention to Fudge. “Guys or girls, it makes no difference to me.”

“And you, Mr. Lupin?”

“It doesn’t matter as to my preference,” Remus shrugged, locking eyes with Umbridge, who had just finished scribbling on her clipboard. “If you will recall, as stated in the Code of Conduct, I am only allowed to marry my mate, whom I have not found yet.”

“Oh, yes,” Umbridge gave him a sickeningly sweet smile, “about that, we have found your mate.”

“How?” Remus raised a brow questioningly. “I mean, only the dominant partner…”

He trailed off as his face paled. He had always figured he would be the dominant partner, as he was in every relationship he’d ever been in, whether male or female, but if what they said was true, then obviously not. He had never spent much time in werewolf society so he didn’t know the specifics of the partners but he did know that some of the tales he’d heard about certain dominants were not pleasant.

“Ah yes, Mr. Potter, we almost forgot you,” Fudge continued in a feigned polite voice, belying his words. “Your preference, please?”

“Guys,” Harry scowled at the Minister.

“Very well, then, if you three would please wait outside,” he looked at the two eldest Weasleys and Wufei.

“No,” Bill shook his head, “we will hear what you have to say to our brothers and sister. We’re not going anywhere without them.”

“Oh, alright,” Fudge huffed, clearly this wasn’t going the way he planned. “Now, before we start any of the ceremonies, there is something you need to know about your future spouses. Among the Death Eaters that were rounded up, certain members have been granted parole and with this new law in place, I’ve decided to marry them off to the greatest fighters for the light that we have at our disposal.”

“Are you crazy?” Sirius interrupted. “You want to marry Harry Potter off to a known Death Eater? Do you know how easy it would be for him to get killed in that situation? Not to mention the rest of us?”

“Please, Mr. Black, calm down, we have thought about this,” Fudge held up his hands placatingly. “We have set up various stipulations and restrictions on each person we have chosen. You all will be given control of their wands, money, titles, and any property they have, and they will have to report to the Ministry once a month, until such a time as you deem them trustworthy. So we will be starting with Mr. Black, as this is actually a family matter that dates back to the previous generation. Please bring him in, Dolores.”

Umbridge handed Fudge her clipboard and left the room. Fudge glanced over it, nodding once to show his approval. Umbridge returned a moment later leading a disheveled Lucius Malfoy in her wake. Everyone stared in shocked disbelief at the usually well groomed blond. Wufei, however, was looking between Fudge, Harry, and Sirius with a calculating look.

“Excuse me, Mr. Fudge,” he held up his hand to get the man’s attention. “Were you aware that is against the law in the Earth Sphere and the surrounding colonies to force a minor in the protection of the government to marry against their will?”

He hoped to Nataku his bluff would work. He knew if push came to shove, Une would back him up, considering the minor in question was the brother of one of her top agents. The wizards around the room all looked at the agent in confusion.

“We were not aware anyone in this room was under the protection of the Muggle government,” Umbridge simpered. “As all present, save Miss Weasley, are of age in our world, that does not seem to apply. And even if that were the case, what proof do you have? As the only two who have spent any time in the Muggle world are Mr. Potter, whose legal guardian is in this very room, and Miss Granger, whose parents have given her permission to be an adult in our world.”

Wufei’s eyes smoldered, but he refused to back down, “My superior, Lady Anne Une of the Preventers, may have something to say about that. As Mr. Potter’s closest kin was not consulted in the transfer of guardianship.”

“I’m sorry,” Fudge scowled at the former Gundam pilot. “I’m afraid I don’t know who you are.”

“I am Chang Wufei, Agent Shenlong of the Preventers,” he smirked slightly. “If you’d like, I can produce my badge.”

“I see,” Fudge attempted to smirk back but it was a sorry excuse. “Agent Shenlong, I suggest you stand down. Your Lady Une is aware of our society and has allowed us to continue business as usual without her interference. So, unless you’d like to start a war, which you are honor bound to prevent, I’d suggest you hold your tongue. Now as I was saying, this is a Black family matter,” he turned his attention back to Sirius and Lucius. “There is a contract between the Malfoy and Black families stating that Lucius Malfoy must marry a legal Black. Since the unfortunate passing of the former Mrs. Malfoy, and as you and your heir,” he indicated Harry, “are the two who legally fit this criteria, I decided that, since you have no preference, I would marry you to Lucius Malfoy, instead of your heir, who is not a Black by blood.”

“You can’t be serious, Fudge,” Lucius sneered, a reflection of his former self shining through. “Me? Marry Sirius Black? You have got to be joking.”

“Shut up, Lucius, or I’ll throw you back in Azkaban,” Fudge snapped. “You will be marrying Sirius Black before the day is out, like it or not.”

Lucius kept his mouth shut, not wanting to land back in his cell in Azkaban. Fudge nodded once, finally something was going his way. He then turned back to the Order members.

“Now, as he is not the last remaining Malfoy, all titles, lands, properties, and money will be stripped from him and handed down to his son,” Fudge said decisively. “He will take the name Black and any children from this union will also carry that name.”

“But sir,” Harry cut him off, “isn’t Draco Malfoy a known Death Eater as well?”

“Very right you are, Harry,” Fudge beamed and Umbridge left once again, “which brings me to my next arrangement. Miss Granger, I hear you are a highly qualified witch, as such, I know that you will handle the Malfoy estates well and bring them honor and prestige. So I am assigning you to marry Draco Malfoy.”

Draco was led into the room in time to hear the last bit. But unlike his father, he didn’t sneer or protest his upcoming marriage. Azkaban had taken its toll on the poor blond. So without protest, he moved to stand beside Hermione. Harry felt his heart go out to his former rivals, he had chosen a side late in the game and within months of that his world had crumbled around him.

“Now, Miss Weasley, we shall get yours out of the way next,” Fudge gave his weak smile again.

“But I’m not seventeen yet,” Ginny looked up sharply, and Wufei’s eyes narrowed once again. “I’m not required to marry till next year.”

“Ah, but Miss Weasley, we have decided to marry you off early, as is our right,” Fudge smiled triumphantly. “So meet your new husband, Blaise Zabini.”

Blaise was brought in and he, like Draco, went to stand next to his intended without a fight. Harry really felt sorry for the younger Slytherins, they had just been following their parents after all.

“Mr. Ronald Weasley, you shall be marrying Miss Pansy Parkinson, for similar reasons to Miss Granger. I expect you to do honor with the Parkinson fortune.”

The twins’ spouse, however, caused several raised eyebrows among the older generation, including the elder Malfoy.

“Messrs. Fred and George Weasley, as magical identical twins, we cannot separate you without dire consequences to both your minds and magic, so with that in mind,” Fudge cast a malicious look in Sirius’ direction, “your spouse has no title or money to his name, unless the head of his house decides to bestow you with some. However, we feel he has more than served his time in Azkaban. May I present, Regulus Black.”

Sirius’ mouth fell open as a young man walked in head held high in a haughty manner, his grey eyes bright in the dim room. Lucius sneered at the former Death Eater, knowing the younger man had turned himself in to avoid the wrath of the now deceased Dark Lord. The man didn’t deserve this fate, but he wasn’t going to give away Regulus’ true allegiances in front of the bumbling idiot calling himself Minister of Magic.

Now the only two left were Remus and Harry, and Harry couldn’t quite squelch the feeling deep in his gut that whoever his partner was, he wasn’t going to like it one bit.

“Now, Mr. Lupin,” Umbridge held up a piece of paper, “as you pointed out earlier, according to the Werewolf Code of Conduct, you cannot marry unless it is your mate. Luckily for you, we have discovered said mate. He was most helpful to us once we said we could bring you two together.”

She stepped aside and a man walked in, causing Lupin to pale even more than he had earlier.

“That’s not possible,” Remus shook his head. “He is not my mate. He lied to you.”

“Oh, but I assure you he is, Mr. Lupin,” Umbridge’s smile broadened. “We had him under Veritaserum when he told us who his mate was. So you will be marrying Fenrir Greyback as the law states, in paragraph 1034 of the Werewolf Code of Conduct.”

An almost feral grin spread across the new man’s face as his eyes raked up and down Lupin’s form, “You’ve grown since the last time I saw you.”

“Of course he has, you bastard,” Sirius spat, being forcibly restrained by Bill and Charlie Weasley. “He was only a kid when you bit him.”

Harry gasped, as did Ron and Hermione. That was the werewolf who had turned Lupin? No wonder Remus was looking so pale. Harry didn’t think he’d be able to go through that, that would be like him having to marry Voldemort, thankfully for him that bastard was very much dead.

“Now, Mr. Potter,” Fudge turned to Harry, his smile much larger now. “As for your husband, we are assigning you Mr. Severus Snape. It is up to you whether he will be given back his teaching position at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which you will have to take up with the headmaster.”

Harry stared at Fudge in disbelief. What was this barmy old fool playing at? Severus Snape wasn’t a Death Eater, Dumbledore himself had given testimony as to his position as a spy on numerous occasions. His gaze turned as the door opened to reveal the former Potions professor, who was much more subdued than Harry had ever seen him before.

“Now, let us get on with the ceremonies,” Fudge smiled triumphantly at the stunned room.

In what felt like no time at all, the Minister left with a smug look on his face, followed by an equally smug looking Umbridge. The rather stunned occupants of the room just stared after him. Of the assembled, only Bill had managed to get out of being married immediately, as his wedding was the following day, for Fudge managed to force Charlie and Wufei to wed, as they didn’t have any feasible arguments against such an action, unless they wanted to admit their engagement was a farce.

The names had been a rather comical debate between most parties. Fudge had wanted all the former Death Eaters to lose their last names, like Lucius, but most of the Weasleys had insisted that, since there were so many of them, they’d take on the last name of their spouses, much to said spouses’ surprise, as they were the only members of their respective families left. So in the end it was Sirius and Lucius Black, much to the latter’s chagrin; Draco and Hermione Malfoy, as Granger had no standing in the Wizarding community; Blaise and Ginny Zabini; Ron and Pansy Parkinson, Ron had wanted to keep his last name but thought that with at least three of his brothers left to carry it on it would be better to take hers; Fred, George, and Regulus Weasley, as Regulus had pointed out that there was another Black; Charlie and Wufei Weasley-Chang, as Wufei hadn’t wanted to totally lose his heritage; and Harry and Severus Snape, Harry had insisted that he take the Potions Master’s last name, trying to placate his new husband, as he’d probably kill him if he forced him to take the last name Potter, even hyphenated like Wufei and Charlie.

“Well,” Bill cleared his throat, finally breaking the tense silence that had fallen, causing all eyes to turn to him, “I say we head out. I, for one, could use pick me up after that fiasco. So, how about we go have lunch and celebrate Harry’s birthday. Then we can go inform our parents.”

“It will be my treat,” Wufei spoke up. “To make up for the fact that I couldn’t stop this from happening.”

“You really don’t have to do that, Fei,” Charlie sighed, slipping his arm around the smaller man. “You tried, which was more than any of the rest of us did.”

“Hn,” he scoffed. “Of course, I do have an ulterior motive for inviting everyone out to lunch and I’m not going to pay for it. A friend of mine will be more than willing to feed us, especially if I bring Mr. Potter, excuse me,” he rolled his eyes, “Snape, with me. And I can also speak with Lady Une at that point, she obviously has a lot of explaining to do.”

“Before we go,” Ron spoke up, looking at Harry, “Harry, did you want to take your apparition test today? I mean, we’re already here.”

“Um,” Harry bit his lip nervously, he really didn’t want to keep everyone waiting.

“Come, Potter,” Snape snapped. “I’ll not have my _husband_ unable to apparated.”

“We’ll meet you in the atrium,” Hermione shot a nervous glance at their former professor. “Good luck, Harry.”

The Potions Master turned on his heel and walked out the door, his robes billowing behind him. Harry followed slowly, he wasn’t sure what to do, but he knew he had no choice but to go along with his new husband. Once out in the hall, he had to run to catch up with the man, and when he did, he was still jogging to keep up.

“Slow down, please,” he panted from the effort of keeping up.

“And why, Potter, should I bow to your wishes?” Snape sneered, casting a sidelong glance at the boy.

“Well, for starters, I have your wand,” Harry shrugged slightly. “Secondly, I’d like to talk to you before we get back with the others.”

To Harry’s immense relief, the dour man did slow his pace. Neither one said anything for a few more paces. Harry wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, but knew he had to say something.

“Well, Potter,” Snape sighed rather impatiently, “you wanted to talk, talk.”

“Well,” the Gryffindor cleared his throat. “Okay, listen Professor Snape, I know you don’t like me, and up until recently the feeling was mutual, but I can’t ignore what you did.”

“And what, pray tell, did I do?” Snape raised a brow in question, choosing to ignore the use of his title momentarily.

“You know very well what you did,” the teen said exasperatedly. “You saved my life, and not only that, you helped me defeat Voldemort.”

“And how did I do that?” the Potions Master asked, his expression blank, no one had believe his story about the final battle.

“A fake wand?” Harry’s brow shot up incredulously. “Did you think I wouldn’t recognize a Weasley product? The twins told me they were making replicas of my wand, they even had me in there for awhile just to get them to look right. And I know, for a fact, that it was you who incapacitated the other Death Eaters.”

“Oh, you do, do you?” Snape fought to keep his expression neutral, but he had to admit he was quite impressed with the young man walking beside him.

“Yes, I do,” the unruly head bobbed emphatically. “You were the only one not under the body-bind, someone from the outside wouldn’t have risked leaving you unbound.”

“Quite impressive, Potter,” the former professor inclined his head graciously. “Perhaps you’re not as much of an idiot as I thought.”

“From you, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Harry smirked. “Now can you stop calling me Potter, it makes me think you’re going to give me a detention or something. I have a name, it’s Harry.”

“Very well… Harry,” the Potions Master tried the name on his tongue.

“Thank you,” the teen nodded once. “Oh, and here,” he pulled Snape’s wand out of his pocket, “I think you should have this.”

“Are you sure about that, Po—Harry?” the dark brow furrowed, here was Potter’s chance to deny him something important to him and he was offering it up freely.

“What do I need with your wand, Severus?” Harry tested the name, seeing if he’d get a response from his professor, which he didn’t. “Besides, I trust you. And as soon as we’ve had our lunch, I’ll owl Dumbledore and tell him to expect his Potions professor back. I’m sure he’s been sitting around biding his time, putting off hiring someone to fill your place until the last possible moment.”

“Why?” Snape stopped and looked down at his new husband incredulously.

“Why what?” Harry cocked his head to the side in confusion.

“Why are you doing all this?”

“All what?” Harry shook his head, he truly didn’t know what the man was on about.

“Giving me my wand back, arranging for me to have my old position,” Snape crossed his arms over his chest. “Why are you doing it? What do you want in return?”

“I’d honestly not thought of that,” the Gryffindor shrugged. “I’m just doing what I know is right. You don’t deserve to be treated like something you’re not, namely a Death Eater. Think of it as you’re now free, well except for the whole being married to me,” he pulled a face. “But neither one of us had a say in that. By the way, do you have any idea why Fudge did that?”

“No, I don’t,” the Potions Master sighed, taking his wand and sliding it into the holster still attached to his arm as he continued walking. “But rest assured, I will find out.”


	4. Changing Perspectives

Chapter 3: Changing Perspectives

 

About fifteen minutes later, a very amazed Harry Snape walked out of the testing room where he had gotten his apparation license. He was amazed because one, he’d passed his test on the first try; and two, the Potions Master didn’t seem upset with this face, in fact he looked almost pleased that the teen had done so well, almost being the key word.

They walked in silence all the way back to the atrium, where, as Hermione had promised, everyone was waiting for them. In their absence, it seemed that most of the former Death Eaters had gotten their old personalities back, as Draco and Pansy were now scowling darkly as they stood next to their respective spouses; Blaise still seemed indifferent to the whole thing, but he didn’t have the outspoken personality his fellow housemates did; Regulus was engaged in a staring contest with his older brother, which neither seemed willing to lose; and Lucius was muttering about the indignity of being forced to become a Black and give up his family name. The only one who seemed different to Harry, though he’d never met him before, was Fenrir Greyback, who was standing in front of Remus almost protectively, or it could’ve been possessively, he really couldn’t tell.

“Good, you’re back,” Ron said when he spotted the two men coming their way. “Come on, let’s go. I’m starving.”

Harry laughed at his best friend, “I agree, I’m hungry. So let’s get out of here.”

“Did you get it?” the youngest Weasley male asked as they made their way to the lifts to take them back to the surface.

“Yep, first try,” the raven haired teen grinned. “Which was better than… Charlie, right?”

The dragon handler groaned, “Fred and George weren’t spreading that story around again, were they?”

“Of course we were,” the twins said together, each sporting unrepentant grins. “We have to pick on our older brother somehow.”

“Don’t feel too bad, Charlie,” Hermione giggled. “Ron didn’t pass his on the first try either.”

“He didn’t?” all the other Weasleys chorused.

“Half an eyebrow,” Ron scowled.

Everyone chuckled as the group spilt up into two lifts, as there were so many of them, and met once again on the surface. They looked around, blinking in the morning light, hoping they hadn’t attracted too much attention with their sudden appearance.

“So, where to Fei?” Charlie asked, turning to his new husband.

Onyx eyes closed briefly in thought, before he nodded decisively, “We are actually not far from his residence. If you will follow me.”

“Before we do this,” Draco sneered at the strange man, “some of us would appreciate cleaning up. Or did you lot forget that almost half of us just got out of Azkaban?”

“Honestly, we did forget, Mal—Draco,” Harry sighed, speaking for all his fellow Gryffindors, who were looking rather sheepish. “But then again, it has been a long day and it’s not even noon yet. So how should we do this? Should we head over to the Leaky Cauldron and see if Tom will let us use some of the showers?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Harry,” Sirius chuckled slightly. “We could always go to Grimmauld, however, there aren’t very many showers, so it might take awhile.”

“Honestly, Gryffindors,” Lucius sighed exasperatedly, just as Wufei opened his mouth to speak, thereby cutting off the young agent. “There is a Malfoy townhouse just down the street. There are more than enough facilities there to accommodate everyone.”

“Lead the way, Lucius,” Remus motioned the tall blond on, it was the best suggestion they’d had so far. “Though, we’ll have to get Draco or Hermione to deal with the wards undoubtedly around the property, as you are no longer a Malfoy.”

Lucius huffed indignantly, but didn’t say anything. He turned on his heel and began heading up the street. The others followed. When Lucius finally stopped about two blocks away, Hermione surreptitiously pulled her wand and muttered a spell under her breath.

“Notice me not, Muggle repellant, and a strong protection,” she muttered just loud enough for the others to hear, and amazingly enough Lucius looked impressed with her answer. “Alright, I’m not going to take them down. Charlie, keep a firm hold on Agent Shenlong, I’m going to bend the wards to let us in.”

Almost ten minutes later, they were all standing in the foyer of the large townhouse. Hermione was the last one in and she leaned heavily against the wall, looking almost winded.

“Damn, that’s exhausting,” she panted slightly. “I’ll have to reset them tonight and key everyone in so this doesn’t happen next time.”

“And who says there’s going to be a next time?” Draco sneered at her.

“I do, Draco,” Hermione straightened up and locked eyes with him. “Or did you forget, I have control over the properties. I will be including my friends in the people who aren’t repelled by the wards, as I will also be including yours. Do you have a problem with that?”

The blond Slytherin looked taken aback for a moment, but then shook his head slowly.

“Good,” Hermione flipped her hair over her shoulder in an agitated manner. “Now, all of you get upstairs and get cleaned up.”

The former Death Eaters complied without a fuss when they saw the steely look in her eyes, which at that point was far scarier than anything Voldemort had ever used. Only Greyback seemed hesitant, as if he were unwilling to leave Remus’ side for even a moment, but at a particularly harsh glare, reconsidered and made his way up the stairs.

“Wow, Hermione,” Ron beamed at her, “you sure have a way with people.”

“Oh, and don’t think you boys are getting out of it,” she rounded on the Weasleys, Harry, Wufei, Remus, and Sirius. “The only ones I’d be seen in public with are Harry and Wufei, and they’re just passable. Come on, if nothing else, you need to change your clothes. And if there’s nothing that fits, I’ll just adjust them so they do.”

She led the way up the stairs, with the others following in her wake, too intimidated to protest, except Wufei, who was simply speechless with indignation. When they reached the top, Hermione began opening doors at random. She finally decided on one she liked and ushered all of them inside. It appeared to be one of the numerous guestrooms the house sported. The bushy haired girl then turned to face them.

“Alright,” she said, giving them the once over. “The robes have to go. We’re going to a Muggle place after all. Okay, Agent Shenlong, you first, as yours will take the least to alter.”

“I think not,” the Chinese agent crossed his arms over his chest. “I refused to let Relena Peacecraft Darlian touch my wardrobe, what makes you think I will allow you to mess with it? If I choose to change, it will be into my own clothes back at Quatre’s. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should call ahead and inform him I am bringing seventeen people to lunch with me.”

“Fine,” she frowned as the stubborn man turned around and walked back out into the hallway. “Ginny, you’re up.”

She waved her wand and the girl’s old clothes turned into a pale lavender sleeveless sundress and matching heels. She repeated the process on all of them, until only she and Harry were left. Harry had to admit, though, that they all looked rather good in the styles she had put them in, simple yet effective. Bill and Charlie were each sporting a pair of dark blue jeans with black button up shirts, Charlie’s short sleeved and Bill’s long, with their normal dragon hide boots on; Ron was dressed in khakis and a dark blue polo with a pair of trainers; the twins were each wearing black slacks and white button up shirts with their normal green boots that matched their dragon hide jackets; Remus and Sirius she put in baggy jeans and black t-shirts that said ‘I Smell Trouble’ for Remus and ‘Up to No Good’ for Sirius.

She then turned to the bed in the room and transfigured the blanket into a dress similar to Ginny’s, for herself, only in pale blue, and did the same with her shoes. Finally, she turned her sights on Harry, who gulped audibly.

“Now for you, Harry,” there was a gleam in her eyes that he wasn’t sure he liked. “I’ve always wanted to get my hands on you.”

“Her—Hermione,” he said nervously, “you’re scaring me.”

“Don’t be scared, Harry,” she smiled reassuringly, but the gleam didn’t leave her eyes. “It won’t hurt, much.”

She raised her wand and Harry did the only thing he could think of, he screwed his eyes shut tight and braced himself. He felt his clothes shift around him and the strangest sensation on his head, as if something were weighing down the ends of his hair. He finally opened his eyes when he felt his glasses being removed from his face. He watched her tap them once with her wand, and the plastic disappeared, only to be replaced by thin wire frames which were about half the size they normally were and oval shaped.

“There,” she smirked at him as she placed them back on his face. “Now, all we have to do is pull your hair back.”

She moved around him and he was shocked to feel her hands pulling at his hair, which was now down to his shoulders, and tying it at the base of his neck. When she moved away again, disappearing into the attached bath to change, he walked purposefully to the mirror on the back of the door to give himself the once over. His hair, as previously stated, was now down to his shoulders and pulled back into a low ponytail, similar to Bill’s; his shirt had been transformed into a short sleeved, emerald green button up; and he was in black slacks; and boots. Overall, he thought he looked good.

“Okay,” Hermione said, going over her handiwork on herself, “I know it’s not the greatest, or the most practical, but it works for now.”

“You give yourself far too little credit, Hermione,” Remus shook his head. “That was some of the best transfiguration work I’ve ever seen.”

Hermione blushed, “Well, I’ve been practicing over the summer. I didn’t think it was necessary for my parents to buy me a whole new wardrobe when I could just transfigure the clothes I had.”

“Not many people can do that, Hermione, there is a reason Madam Malkin hasn’t gone out of business yet,” Sirius chuckled. “You truly are a highly qualified witch.”

“Let’s go back downstairs and see if the others are ready to go,” she ducked her head embarrassedly and headed for the door.

As it was, when they reached the foyer, only Wufei was there, still speaking into a cell phone, in a language none of them understood, presumably Chinese, and pacing back and forth in front of the door. They waited five minutes before Pansy and Blaise made their appearances. Pansy looked enviously at Hermione’s and Ginny’s dresses, as all she found to wear was a dark grey pants suit that had been Narcissa’s. Harry caught her look and nudged Hermione, nodding in the Slytherin girl’s direction.

“Would you like one, Pansy?” she offered with a smile. “I can change that outfit into one, if you’d like.”

Pansy cast a furtive glance at Blaise, who just shrugged, before nodding. Hermione waved her wand and the pants suit changed into another sundress. Pansy gave a squeal of delight as she twirled around in her new dress.

“Um,” she finally stopped twirling as she realized she had an audience, “sorry. Um, Granger? Could you possibly change the color, this one is so drab?”

“It’s Hermione, Pansy,” the Gryffindor girl beamed, Pansy’s reaction more than enough of a thank you. “And yes, I can.”

With another wave of her wand the grey turned a pale pink and Pansy gave another girlish squeal.

“What is all this racket?” Lucius asked as he and Severus appeared at the top of the stairs, both resplendent in black slacks and black silk shirts. “Where did you get that clothing? There is nothing of that sort in this house.”

“Hermione made it for us, you got a problem with that?” Sirius glared at the blond.

“Not at all,” his pale grey eyes swept appraisingly over the girl who was now married to his son. “That is quite impressive, Mrs. Malfoy.” (1)

“Thank you,” she bowed her head under his scrutiny.

It didn’t take long for the other three to reappear and they finally made their way out of the house. They had just made it to the sidewalk when Bill pulled them all to a halt.

“I think,” he said slowly, as if weighing his words carefully, “that before we go traipsing around London, we should go to the Burrow.”

“Wasn’t it your idea for us to get lunch before we saw Mum and Dad?” Ron asked incredulously.

“Yes, but that was before all this,” the eldest Weasley shook his head. “I don’t want to inconvenience Wufei’s friend, and Mum and Dad are probably worried sick.”

“I will call Quatre back,” the Chinese youth nodded in understanding, it had been rather presumptuous of him to ask them all to visit his rich friend when they hadn’t even talked to their parents yet. “He will understand.”

After his phone call, Wufei nodded to the others, indicating he was ready. Making sure the coast was clear, they all began apparating in pairs.

They all reappeared in front of a ramshackle house that was several stories high and had to be held up by magic. A man and woman came running out of the house to meet them. The woman began looking over all the redheads, making sure they weren’t hurt, while the man stared at the assembled group with confusion written clearly on his face.

“Mum, we’re alright,” Bill reassured the woman.

“What are they doing here?” the man asked his oldest son warily.

“Actually, Dad, they’re the reason Fudge called everyone to the Ministry today,” Bill scratched his neck nervously. “How about we go inside and then we’ll talk?”

Arthur and Molly Weasley both nodded and led the way into the house. It was a tight squeeze but they managed to all fit into the kitchen, where Molly began making tea. Arthur then turned to his sons, awaiting an explanation.

“Well, we know you’re familiar with Fudge’s new law—” Fred began.

“So he decided—” George piped up.

“That because of that—”

“He had the right—”

“To force all of us—”

“To get married,” they said together.

“Stop!” Molly turned from the stove. “Are you telling me that Fudge forced the lot of you to marry ex Death Eaters?”

“That’s what they’re saying, Molly,” Sirius leaned against the wall sullenly.

“All of you?” she looked at the dog Animagus in disbelief. “Including Harry?”

At Sirius’ nod, the Weasley matriarch’s lips pursed in a dark scowl.

“Who is married to who?” she looked around at all the former Death Eaters, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Tell me now.”

“Lucius Malfoy,” Sirius scowled, matching Mrs. Weasley’s expression.

“Regulus Black,” the twins said in unison, they’d have to get used to it sooner or later, they all would.

“At least he wasn’t stupid enough to split the two of you up,” Molly huffed, indicating the next person, which just happened to be Ron.

“Pansy Parkinson,” he frowned.

“Draco Malfoy,” Hermione said neutrally, not willing to break down in front of everyone.

“Fenrir Greyback,” Remus shook his head sadly.

“Blaise Zabini,” Ginny sighed.

“Wait! What?!” Arthur cut in. “He even forced Ginny to marry? Has he gone insane?”

“Of that I assure you, Arthur,” Lucius drawled from his place beside Sirius.

“It doesn’t matter at the moment, Arthur,” Molly shook her head. “We’ll discuss Fudge’s sanity in a bit. Harry, Charlie, who did you marry?”

“Severus Snape,” Harry said quietly.

“Wufei Chang,” Charlie tried his hardest to keep the smile off his face, in support of the others, but he wasn’t upset with his choice in husband.

“Who?” Mr. Weasley’s brow furrowed. “That’s not a name I am familiar with.”

“That would be me,” the former terrorist laughed. “And I have to say it is refreshing to know there are people who have not heard of me or the atrocities I have committed.”

“I was right then,” Hermione said smugly. “You are one of the former Gundam pilots.”

“Does that not frighten you, little girl?” he cocked a brow, his arms folding across his chest, though he was surprised no one else reacted her to her claim.

“Hardly,” she scoffed. “You and the other pilots did the Muggle world a great favor. There should be more people out there willing to fight for justice and peace.”

“I will be sure to pass your sentiments to the others,” he nodded, impressed.

“Alright, everyone out back,” Molly commanded sternly. “Bill, Charlie, you’re in charge of tables. We’ll continue this discussion over lunch.”

The assembled crowd headed outside, with the exception of Hermione, Ginny, and Harry. The girls knew they were expected to help with meal preparations and Harry was going to offer his assistance as well. Mrs. Weasley was reluctant to let him help but after a minute, and a puppy dog look, she caved and set him up with something easy. Between the four of them, lunch was ready and on the table in less than half an hour.

When everyone was seated, Molly began the discussion again, “Now that I am no longer ready to throttle that sad excuse of a man we call Minister of Magic, can someone please tell me his reason for doing this?”

“Well,” Harry spoke up, when no one else appeared willing to do so, Bill had left before the meal was out, saying he had to speak with his fiancé, “according to him, because of our active stand during the war, we’re playing probation officers to our newly acquired spouses.”

“Why would he even think about doing that?” Molly slammed her fist on the table, causing all the dishes to rattle. “He placed barely legal children over people known to be in the service of You-Know-Who.”

“If I may, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione said quietly, trying to placate the older woman, “I believe he had other reasons for doing it. One of which is that more than half of us are returning to Hogwarts next year and will be under the watchful eye of the teachers and Dumbledore.”

“More than likely,” Sirius rolled his eyes, “he just didn’t want to waste his Aurors on babysitting them.”

“You’re probably right, Sirius,” Mrs. Weasley nodded sadly. “He’s a paranoid fool, who doesn’t want to give up his power.”

“You know,” Lucius spoke up, tired of being talked around, “it is exceedingly rude to talk as if we are not present. So, if I may interject my opinion on the matter, Fudge could not have come up with this on his own, someone has to be pulling the strings.”

“How do you figure?” Ron asked, his strategic mind going into overdrive.

“I used to be the puppet master,” Lucius smirked, a trace of his old self shining through.

“And who’s to say you aren’t this time, Lucius?” Arthur cast him a glare. “Perhaps you wanted to get close enough to kill Harry, finish what your former master couldn’t.”

“After my stint in Azkaban, I’m afraid I’ve fallen out of favor with the current Minister,” the blond examined his nails before meeting Arthur’s gaze. “And what reason would I have for killing Potter? The Dark Lord is gone, there would be no point in killing his slayer. Besides, if I was the one pulling the strings, do you honestly think I would have stripped myself of all the power that came with being Lord Malfoy?”

“What?” the Weasley patriarch spluttered. “You’ve been stripped of your title?”

“Oh, we forgot to mention that little tidbit,” Hermione giggled nervously. “All control of properties and money went to the spouses, even the control of their wands, though Lucius’ title was stripped from him and handed down to his son and his wife, so they’re in my possession. Ron and Ginny are also in control of their new family holdings. Fred and George’s spouse has none, so they don’t have anything like that. But Harry has the right to deny Pro—Snape his teaching position.”

“Interesting,” Arthur muttered, taking a sip from his cup. “So Fudge decided that he’d put a safety net up to make it less suspicious.”

“Shit!” Harry cursed loudly, causing most of the adults to glare at him. “I forgot about that. Can I borrow an owl?”

“Pig’s upstairs,” Ron offered, giving him a confused look.

“Thanks, Ron, I think Hedwig went to Hogwarts till the end of break,” Harry said before dashing off toward the house.

“What was that about?” Ron, confusion still written on his face, looked around at the others, who just shrugged.

When Harry returned, Molly announced it was now time to clean up. Everyone decided to head home, they would meet up again tomorrow for the wedding anyway. Fred and George hugged their parents and disappeared with their husband back to their loft above the store; Ginny and Ron led their spouses into the house, as they hadn’t been to either of their new residences yet; Sirius and Remus decided to take their husbands back to Grimmauld Place, as it was where the two of them had been living prior to that day; Hermione and Draco went back to the townhouse in London, so she could reset the wards, they would head to Malfoy Manor in the next week; and Wufei insisted that he take Charlie, Harry, and Snape to visit his friend now, though he wouldn’t say why.

Once they reached the co-ordinance the agent had given, Wufei began leading the three wizards down the street. The only house on the entire street was a large estate. The house itself was wide enough to cover half the block. They couldn’t see any of the grounds as a large privacy fence surrounded the entire block, but it wouldn’t have surprised them if that was the extent of the property.

Wufei took off across the street and turned right, walking along the fence. As he walked, he pulled out a small device that no one, not even Harry, was sure what was. He began typing in a series of numbers, paused, and type in another set. In front of them, the huge iron gates of the estate began to slowly open inward.

“We are here,” Wufei turned and headed up the walk.

“Whoa,” Harry shared a look with Charlie. “This is where your friend lives, Mr. Chang?”

“Call me Wufei,” the Chinese agent shook his head slightly. “And yes, this is one of his estates on the Sphere.”

“One of…” he trailed off, scowling. “Who the hell are we dealing with? The Queen of the World?”

“She is not queen anymore,” Wufei answered flippantly. “But no, we are not dealing with Relena. Thank god,” he added under his breath.

He didn’t offer up any more information, as they had now reached the opulent front doors. He lifted the brass knocker and gave it five hard knocks before reaching over and pressing the doorbell. A moment later, the door swung open to reveal a large man with a strange beard.

“Ah, Master Wufei,” the man bowed, motioning for the four of them to enter. “We were told to expect you and your guests. The others are waiting in the dining room.”

“Thank you, Rashid,” Wufei returned the bow, before motioning the wizards forward.

They made their way down the hall, everyone’s eyes darting around, taking in the elegance of the house around them. Charlie was the most surprised, however. He knew very little about his new husband, but he hadn’t realized he was used to living in such elegance. How was he supposed to compete with this?

They finally stopped at a door about a quarter of the way around the room. Without a word, Wufei pulled it open and allowed the wizards to precede him inside. The focal point of this room was a long, elegant, mahogany table, with enough chairs to seat thirty people comfortably. At the far end of the room, six young men, most of them around the same age as Wufei, were standing, talking quietly amongst themselves.

As soon as the door opened, the small blond slipped out of the braided man’s arms and made his way over to them. He gave the Chinese man a nod before turning a bright smile on the other three.

“Welcome,” he said graciously, beckoning them further into the room. “I’m afraid Wufei was rather vague on the reason he brought all of you here, but know that any friend of Wufei’s is…” he trailed off as his eyes landed on Harry, but no one other than the boy in question realized this as one of the other men in the room chose that moment to speak up.

“Charlie?”


	5. Confrontations and Confusion

Chapter 4: Confrontations and Confusion

 

Ron, Ginny, Blaise, and Pansy sat nervously in the living room of the Burrow, awaiting the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, so they could figure out their sleeping arrangements, as none of them felt they were ready to share a room at the moment. The two eldest Weasleys finally came in and took their usual seats, looking around at their children, new and old.

“Well, dears,” Molly finally broke the tense silence, “I know this isn’t the most pleasant experience for any of you, and that none of you wanted it, but I would like to welcome you both into the family.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley,” Blaise said quietly, yet politely. “I know you are worried for your daughter, as well as your other children, but know that she, at least, will be well taken care of. I know you have no reason to trust me, because of my former status as a Death Eater, but rest assured, I never wanted any part of that. My mother and current step-father forced me into service. They were both loyal to the Dark Lord, not I. I only wanted to finish school and then focus on getting out from under my mother’s control.”

“Many have claimed that, son,” Arthur said, weighing his words carefully. “But amazingly enough, I believe you. The Ministry has wanted to get your mother locked away in Azkaban for many years, but could never pin anything on her. She was more slippery than Lucius Malfoy, or Voldemort himself.”

Everyone in the room flinched at the name, but no one commented.

“She always covered her tracks well, sir,” the dark skinned teen nodded sadly. “I didn’t even believe the rumors until my last step-father fell. I actually liked that one, he tried to get to know me, but I didn’t find the poison until it was too late.”

“Well, you are now free of her,” Molly gave a weak smile, barely restraining herself from reaching out and comforting her newest son. “With that testimony there, the Ministry could have enough evidence to have the Kiss administered, if that’s what you wish. And you may call us Molly and Arthur, or, if you prefer, Mum and Dad.”

“Thank you, Molly,” Blaise nodded, a small smirk lifting the corners of his mouth.

“Well,” Pansy fidgeted nervously with the hem of her dress as all eyes shifted to her, “my story isn’t as touching as Blaise’s, cause when I joined the Death Eaters I thought it was what I wanted. I was raised on the Dark Lord’s teachings, you know,” she said rather defensively. “So I was excited when my parents finally said I was worthy enough to go into his service.”

“Why?” Ron looked at his new wife in disgust. “Why would you be excited to join that lunatic?”

“Think of it this way,” she tried to smile but it didn’t work under the intense gazes, “it was probably the same way you felt when you first met Harry Potter. You had been told his story since you were a baby and were taught that he was a hero. I was raised the exact opposite, my parents believed that the Dark Lord had been right and practically worshiped him. So yeah, I was excited. But my eyes were quickly opened to what that animal was truly capable of, but by then it was too late, it was either take his mark or die.”

“Some would argue that death would be preferable,” Ginny scowled darkly at the Slytherin girl.

“Some would,” Pansy shrugged. “But I’m not that brave, or foolish.”

Molly mimicked her daughter’s look as she took in the newest female in her family. “Well, it’s getting on and we have a wedding tomorrow. Arthur, would you show Blaise to the twins’ room, and Pansy can have Percy’s old room, Bill will more than likely show up later and take his and Charlie’s old room. Once you know the way, I would like both of you to come and help me get ready for tomorrow. Ron, Ginny, come along, we have work to do.”

“Yes, mum,” the two redheads chorused wearily, while the other two teens followed Arthur up the stairs.

888888

Grimmauld Place was exactly how it had always been for centuries: old, dirty, and full of dark objects. The two Marauders and their new spouses landed in the kitchen, where Kreacher was sulking behind the leg of the large table. However, when the house elf spotted the new arrivals, he ran over and threw himself at Lucius’ feet.

“Has Master Malfoy come to take Kreacher away from the blood-traitor and his beast?” the elf muttered under his breath to the floor.

Lucius’ brow creased in a frown at the diminutive creature before him, before turning the look on his new husband.

“Is he always this disrespectful?” the blond asked incredulously. “He should be whipped for such insolence.”

“He doesn’t like me,” Sirius shrugged, “and I assure you, the feeling is quite mutual. I don’t really care what he does, as long as he doesn’t break anything of mine.”

“This is unacceptable,” the former Death Eater shook his head. “His name?”

“Kreacher,” the dog Animagus supplied flippantly. “He was my mother’s house elf, if you want him, take him.”

“Kreacher,” Lucius snapped at the house elf, “get up.”

Kreacher scrambled to his feet in haste, eager to serve his new master, “How can Kreacher serve Master Malfoy?”

Sirius snorted back a laugh, “He’s not a Malfoy anymore, he’s a Black.”

“Such disgrace to fall on the honorable Lord Malfoy,” Kreacher wailed. “To have to marry that blood-traitoring, disgraceful son of my Lady.”

“Enough!” the blond raised his hand and brought it down sharply across the elf’s face. “You will not speak to my new _husband_ that way in my presence.”

The little creature looked up at him in something akin to awe, “Yes, Master.”

“Now, clean this house,” Lucius sneered. “I will not live in a hovel like this. I expect dinner to be on the table at seven. Dismissed.”

The diminutive elf popped out of the room, leaving the four men standing there awkwardly. After a few tense minutes, Sirius finally decided to break the silence.

“Alright then,” he clapped his hands together. “I’ll show you to your rooms. And, as you heard,” he gave a feeble attempt at a smile, “dinner is at seven.”

He led the other three up the stairs of the house, motioning for silence as they reached the first landing, so as not to wake the portrait of his mother. Once they were another floor up, he began pointing out the different rooms in hushed tones.

“You’re welcome to any of the rooms you want,” he waved around the hall, “except that one, that’s Harry’s. My room is this one,” he motioned to the one across from Harry’s. “And the room on the far end is locked, so I wouldn’t recommend that one.”

With that being said, he disappeared into his bedroom and closed the door with a soft click. Lucius barely spared the other two men a glance before going to the different rooms and looking inside, finally deeming the one right next to Sirius’ as the most acceptable. Remus didn’t wait to see which room Fenrir would pick before beating a hasty retreat to his own room, next to the one his best friend had pointed out as his godson’s. Before he could close the door completely, however, his mate’s hand stopped him.

“Now, Remus,” the elder werewolf admonished gruffly as he pushed his way inside the room and closed the door behind him, a strange gleam in his amber eyes, “you didn’t think you’d escape me that easily, did you?”

“Fenrir, I…” he began nervously, not sure what he was going to say but hoping to buy some time so he could find an escape route.

“There’s no need to be nervous, Remus,” Fenrir grinned wickedly, stepping closer to his slightly smaller mate. “It’s not as if you don’t know how this works.”

He reached up and ran a finger down the younger man’s cheek. Remus turned his face away and closed his eyes. Fenrir was stronger than he was and if he wanted to force himself on Remus, he wouldn’t be able to stop him. On top of that, Fenrir was his dominant, he didn’t know much about werewolf society, having never lived among others of his kind, but he knew that dominants had a right to their submissive, forcibly if they so desired.

Fenrir growled at the reaction, and the smell of fear emanating off his mate. He wanted the younger man, but not like this. He wanted his mate willing. That didn’t mean he couldn’t have a bit of fun in the mean time. With that thought in mind, he began advancing on the smaller man, causing him to move back toward the bed. Remus’ knees hit the bed frame and he fell backward. He landed hard on his butt, propped up on his elbows. Fenrir groaned at the enticing display his mate presented, and his resolve almost crumbled.

With another growl, Fenrir put his hands on either side of Remus and leaned forward, burying his nose in his hair and drinking in his mate’s scent.

“Why must you tempt me, Remus?” the older man said, rolling onto his back next to his mate.

“What do you mean?” Remus looked over at him confused, he was sure his mate was about to force himself on him.

“You have no idea how much I want you right now,” Fenrir threw his arm over his eyes. “But I will not force myself on you, no matter how much I want to make you mine and remove the stink of that man from you.”

“I don’t understand,” Remus frowned, looking over at the man who was his mate. “You are the dominate mate, you have the right…”

“Just because I have the right to take you, doesn’t mean I will force you,” he propped himself up on his elbow to scowl at the other. “We have the rest of our lives together, why start off with mistrust and fear? Besides, I’ve waited this long, what’s a little longer?”

“Is that why you turned me?” Remus turned his head, not able to look the other in the eye. “Because I was your mate?”

“Don’t be crass,” Fenrir frowned. “I turned you when you were what… five? Werewolves don’t know who their mates are until both parties reach their majority. I didn’t know you were my mate until you were fifteen, but you were always just beyond my grasp. No, I had another reason for turning you.”

“And that was?” Remus was curious despite himself.

“You have no doubt heard that my preferred victims are children,” the other man shook his head, “and that is true, but I did that with the hope of raising them.”

“To hate wizards,” Remus practically snarled, “I’ve heard.”

“No, that is the common misconception,” Fenrir sighed. “I did not raise them to hate wizards. I was attempting to raise a generation without the prejudice of previous generations. I had planned to return them to their families and integrate them back into society so they could get others to see them and start a movement of change and make things better for our kind. However, most families didn’t want them back, called them monsters and tried to eliminate them.

“On the night I attacked you, I had planned to take you with me, but your father interfered. I was forced to leave you. Surprisingly, you are my greatest success story, even though I did not raise you. Your parents did their best to protect and help you. You went to Hogwarts and made friends who stood by you despite your affliction. You even went on to be a teacher, and now an entire generation of Hogwarts students respect and love you. You have set about the change I have always hoped for.”

“That is an extraordinary tale,” Remus frowned. “But how do I know it’s true?”

“You will just have to trust me for now,” Fenrir reached out and cupped Remus’ cheek. “And even if you don’t right now, I will spend the rest of my life earning your trust.”

With that being said, he leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on Remus’ lips.

888888

Draco and Hermione landed in the foyer of the townhouse. The blond released Hermione’s arm almost immediately and began heading for the stairs. The witch watched his retreat for a moment before deciding to follow, to be safe she’d have to deal with the wards later.

“Draco,” she said as they reached the top of the stairs.

“What, Granger?” he asked, pausing his steps but not bothering to look at her. “I thought you were going to work on the wards?”

“First of all,” her lips pursed in irritation, “you can call me Hermione, as I’m no longer a Granger. And as for the wards, it will be better if I take care of them later tonight as I will more than likely have to take down the old ones and then replace them with new ones. But I was wondering if there were any rooms I should stay away from?”

He took a deep breath, he hadn’t really expected that, “My room is that one,” he pointed to the first door on the left side of the left hallway, “my father’s is just across the hall, and mother’s is the farthest one on the right,” he pointed down the right hallway. “I don’t care if you take hers, she won’t need it anymore, just don’t mess with father’s. Other than that, I don’t care.”

“Your parents didn’t share a room?” her brow furrowed at that revelation.

“They never did for as long as I can remember,” he shrugged. “Theirs was an arranged marriage, it’s not that uncommon in pureblood families. I think the only time they tolerated each other enough to share a bed was for my conception. They couldn’t stand each other, and my mother barely tolerated me. And I really don’t know why I told you any of this, forget I said anything. Take whatever room you want.”

“Alright,” she nodded, choosing to file away the information for examination at a future point in time. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind. Anyway, I’m going to go see my parents, I’m sure they’ll want to know what’s going on, and I should probably get my things from my house. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like, I’m sure they’d like to meet their new son-in-law, or you can stay here, just don’t leave the house while I’m gone.”

“I guess I can go with you,” he agreed, more so he didn’t have to be alone than from a desire to meet her parents.

“Okay,” she nodded and turned to head back down the stairs.

“Wait, aren’t we going to Apparate?” he asked, catching up with her.

“No,” she shook her head, “I think we’ll take the underground. It’ll give me some time to prepare what I’m going to say to them, and get you accustomed to mingling with Muggles.”

“Right,” he had forgotten that little tidbit. “By all means then, lead the way.”

They left the house and Hermione led the way to the nearest station for the London Underground. The blond had never traveled this way before, but mostly kept his thoughts behind a mask of cold indifference. About half an hour later, they got off the train and made their way back up to street level. Hermione once again took the lead as she made their way to her parents’ house. She didn’t bother knocking but just let them inside.

“Mum, Dad,” she called as soon as they cleared the threshold.

“Hermione?” a woman emerged from the door to the left. “We weren’t expecting you back till at least tomorrow. Who’s this?” she asked, spotting Draco.

“Mum, this is Draco Malfoy,” she sighed. “Where’s Dad? I’d rather only have to explain this once.”

“He’s in the living room,” she indicated the room she’d just come from. “Why don’t you head on in? I’ll grab some tea and join you in a moment.”

“Thanks, Mum,” the bushy haired witch gave a faint smile before directing Draco inside.

They entered the living room, where a man was seated on the couch, reading through some paperwork. He looked up when they entered, his expression one of surprise.

“Hi, Daddy,” she went over and gave him a hug.

“Baby girl,” he returned the hug. “We weren’t expecting you home yet.”

“Yeah, I know,” Hermione sighed. “Something came up. Anyway, this is Draco. And as soon as Mum comes back, I’ll explain everything.”

Mrs. Granger returned a few minutes later with tea for four. As she served the tea, Hermione filled them in on the events of the morning. By the time she was finished, both her parents were staring at her in shock.

“So you’re saying that the Ministry forced you and your friends to get married?” her father asked incredulously. “Maybe we can get people together and sign a petition to get this law repealed?”

“It doesn’t quite work that way,” Draco shook his head, speaking up for the first time. “It takes a lot for a law to be overturned. Trust me, my father tried often enough It needs full Wizengamot support. And since it takes a majority vote to pass it into law in the first place…. You see the problem.”

“There has to be a way,” Mrs. Granger frowned.

“I don’t know,” the blond shrugged. “But I’m sure with Gra—Hermione’s help, we could look into it and possibly find something, she is top of our class after all.”

Three sets of eyes turned to regard the Slytherin: two with a newfound appreciation, the other in shocked incredulity at the statement.

“In the meantime,” Mr. Granger chuckled softly, deciding to change the subject, he could get used to his new son-in-law, “we may as well accept this turn of events. If you’re going to be part of this family for the foreseeable future, why don’t you tell us about yourself, Draco?”


	6. Chapter 5: Reunions and Coexisting

Chapter 5: Reunions and Coexisting

 

Lucius Malfoy glanced around the room, a sneer firmly in place. He had always hated the Blacks’ sense of design. Just because you classified yourself as a Dark Wizard did not mean you had to decorate dark and macabre. Narcissa had been the same way, which was why she was never allowed to decorate any room in their houses, except her bedroom.

He shook his head, it didn’t really matter what this room looked like, he wasn’t planning on staying in it very long. In fact, the others should’ve picked their room by now, and that meant it was time for him to see his husband. He opened the door and peered into the deserted hallway. He smirked and made his way next door, and knocked softly.

“Yeah, it’s open,” came the call from inside.

Taking a deep breath, he eased the portal open and slipped inside, closing and locking it behind him. His eyes were immediately assaulted by the vibrancy of the room and he had to force himself to keep a straight face.

“It’s very red,” he addressed the figure on the bed, “but I think it suits you.”

“Oh, it’s you,” the brunet glanced over, “thought you were Remus.”

“I don’t think we’ll be seeing either of them till dinner,” Lucius made his way over and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Lucky for us.”

“What do you want?” Sirius rolled over and pulled a pillow over his head. “Can’t you just leave me to wallow in peace?”

“Stop being so melodramatic, you sound like Draco,” the blond tugged the pillow free and tossed it away. “Besides, you were never one for wallowing, why start now?”

“You know what,” Sirius sat up and glared at the other, “I spent twelve years in Azkaban, not two months like someone else I know, twelve fucking years! Then for the past two years I’ve been on the run because people don’t want to believe I’m innocent! And just when I think I’ve got my life back in some semblance of order, my godson gets taken away and married off to a fucking Death Eater, who I might point out hates my guts! Did I leave anything out?! So forgive me if I feel like wallowing!”

“Siri,” Lucius sighed, reaching over and pulling the other, who struggled violently, onto his lap, “are you quite finished?” The dog Animagus nodded as he relaxed into the embrace. “Good. Now, I know exactly how long you were locked up, I felt your absence every day for those twelve years. And the worst part of my two month imprisonment was imagining how you suffered in there for all that time. As for your godson, he is perfectly safe with Severus. In fact, aside from myself, Draco, and surprisingly Regulus, Severus was the best choice in that group.

“Now, you could continue to dwell on the negative, or,” he lifted the brunet’s chin, “you could resurrect that infernal optimism you are known for, and look at the bright side: After all this time, we are finally allowed to be together. In fact, there is nothing that can tear us apart again, the law dictates it.”

“I’m trying to wallow here, Luc,” Sirius smacked the blond’s chest, “you’re not helping.”

“For wallowing, I’m not trying to help,” he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the pouting lips. “Personally, I’d rather be making up for lost time.”

888888

Once they reached their shop, Fred and George led their husband upstairs to their little apartment. It didn’t have that much space but it served the twins’ needs, they’d just have to adjust to the new addition.

“Well,” Fred said, opening the door, “this is it.”

“Home, sweet, home,” George added. “It’s not much.”

“But it’s ours. The kitchen and living room are through there,” Fred pointed down the hall to the right.

“Bedroom and bathroom are on the left,” George pointed.

“Make yourself at home. Unfortunately, we have to go,” the first continued. “We were not scheduled to be closed today, only tomorrow.”

“So we’ll be down in the shop if you need us,” George indicated the way they had come. “We’ll be back later, and we’ll bring dinner.”

With that, they disappeared back down the stairs. Regulus watched them go, his eyes slightly wide from having to keep up with the double speak. He shook his head, he’d have to get used to it, considering he was now married to them.

Well, he should probably find something to do for the next few hours, otherwise he’d go stir crazy. He sighed, and went first to the bedroom. There were clothes thrown all about the place. He shook his head and made his way over to the wardrobe situated against the far wall. He doubted there would be anything that would fit him, as he was at least a head taller than his spouses. But that could be dealt with later.

With another shake of his head, he set about cleaning the apartment. Without magic, the task took longer than it would have, but it did keep him occupied until the twins returned.

At a quarter after eight, the twins finally returned. And as promised, they had picked up dinner from an Italian place in Muggle London. Once they had all been seated around the living roo and had divided up the food, Fred and George decided that it was time to interrogate… uh get to know their spouse.

“So,” Fred began around a mouthful of pasta, “Regulus, why were you in Azkaban?”

“And why did everyone think you were dead?” George added.

“Gentlemen,” blue eyes drifted from one twin to the other, holding each gaze in turn, “now, I understand that you are twins, magical identical twins at that, and that finishing each other’s thoughts and sentences is as natural as breathing, however, if you are going to insist on this interrogation, I’m going to have to insist that you limit your questions to one at a time by one individual. Normally, I would not have a problem with the double speak, however, the past few years in Azkaban have… muddled my senses. Now, I will answer both of your questions, since they are both similar in the recounting.

“When I realized what Voldemort was really about,” he ignored the collective flinch that came with the saying of the name, “I faked my own death, as it was the only way to get out of the Death Eaters. After that, I turned myself over to the head of Magical Law Enforcement, who secretly hid me away in a minimum security cell in Azkaban.”

“Okay,” George nodded, that made sense. “But if you spent all this time in Azkaban…”

“Why do you not look it?” Fred finished.

“Fred,” Regulus placed his finger on the offending twin’s lips, “I believe I asked you to do this one at a time. Now, George, please continue.”

“As he said,” the twins shared a look, no one had been able to tell them apart that quickly before, “you don’t look like you spent the past twenty odd years in Azkaban. When Sirius escaped, he looked like death warmed over.”

“Well, there are many differences between my brother and I,” he shook his head. “The first being that he was in a maximum security cell, where the dementors came around at least once a day, whereas I was in a minimum security cell, where the dementors came around once every other week, sometimes once a month. The second being, after about six months, I decided I had enough and walked out.”

“You what?!” they asked in unison.

“Well, since no one knew I was there,” he smirked, “I left. Once out, I contacted one of my father’s old acquaintances and placed myself in a sort of witness protection.”

“How so?” Fred asked, sharing a disbelieving look with his brother.

“It was actually quite easy,” Regulus shrugged. “The man I went to was rich and quite influential in the non magical world, so convincing people that he had a grown son wasn’t that difficult, especially after I cut and dyed my hair.”

He pulled his shoulder length hair forward, revealing the bottom quarter to be a faded honey blond.

“Though, I may cut it again,” he pursed his lips as he examined the scraggly mess in his hands. “I should probably wait until after the wedding tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to give anyone a heart attack if they recognized me.”

“Who would recognize you in the wizarding world if you hid yourself among the Muggles?” George frowned.

“Your new brother-in-law for one,” he chuckled. “The small Asian who married your brother, Wufei Chang. He might not take too kindly to seeing me, considering he’s the one that killed me.”

“Whoa, wait, hold up,” Fred held up his hand, flinging a bite of pasta across the room. “What?”

“It will be easier if I start at the beginning of my adventure,” the former Azkaban prisoner shook his head. “Once I joined the non magical world, my ‘father’ signed me up for the military. I did well, and rose quickly through the ranks, money will do that for a person. I was eventually given command of the specials unit, The Organization of the Zodiac, OZ for short. I did and ordered unspeakable things in the name of peace and order for the Alliance and Romefeller.

“Realizing I was doing the exact same thing I’d done for Voldemort, I set myself up as a target, even going so far as to take down the Alliance and becoming the ruler of the world. When it finally came down to the final battle between the Earth Sphere and the Colonies, I set myself on the front line. I knew something drastic would have to happen to bring about true peace, so in front of the entire world I allowed myself to be sacrificed. I died, or at least my non magical persona did. I knew I could not return in any form to the non magical world, as I had been a rallying point for several factions during the war, so I returned to the wizarding world. Upon my return, however, I knew, deep down, that Voldemort had not yet been truly defeated, so I went back to Azkaban, where I have been for the past four years.”

“So, you’re telling us,” George scoffed, “that you, a Slytherin…”

“Ruled the world, and then just gave it up?” Fred continued.

“And you’re expecting us to believe that?” George finished.

“You don’t have to take my word for it,” he shrugged, ignoring the twin speak for a moment. “You can ask anyone in the non magical world about Treize Khushrenada and they’ll give you what I just told you, except for the inner workings of my mind, because only two people know those; my best friends, Zechs Merquise and Lady Anne Une. On that note, I feel I should hed to bed, or I don’t think I will be presentable for the wedding tomorrow.”

With that, he pushed to his feet. He paused, however, and then turned back to the twins with a slight frown.

“I don’t want to be presumptuous,” he said contemplatively, “so where will I be sleeping? I noticed you only have one bed, which you obviously share. I don’t mind sharing with the two of you, we are married after all, but if you two feel uncomfortable with that arrangement, I can take the couch.”

The twins had a silent conversation before turning back to their spouse.

“Couch,” they said in unison.

“Very well,” he nodded. “In that case, I bid you both good night.”

He bowed to them and made his way back to the sofa, where he curled up on his side on the cramped surface. He seemed to fall immediately asleep and the twins decided to relocate to their room.

888888

“Bill?” Charlie frowned across the room at his elder brother. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Bill countered.

“Wufei brought us,” the younger Weasley shook his head.

“I see,” Bill sighed. “Well, since you are here, allow me to introduce my fiancé, Trowa Barton.” He motioned to the unibanged man beside him. “Trowa, this is my brother, Charlie; his… husband, Wufei; our friend, Harry; and his husband, Prof… Severus Snape.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Trowa nodded, before his one visible eye locked on Harry. “You wouldn’t happen to be Harry Potter, would you?”

“Uh, yeah,” the bespectacled teen frowned. Why did everyone have to know who he was?

“I wasn’t told you were married,” his brow lowered slightly.

“It just happened today, Trowa,” Wufei cut in. “I tried to stop it, but was shot down. The Minister claimed that Lady Une approved, if by no other reason than allowing them to conduct business as usual. That is part of the reason I am now married as well. I even offered to marry your brother myself, but Charlie stepped in.”

“Wait,” Harry held up his hand. “Brother? I don’t have a brother.”

“According to the FRA you do,” the Chinese man shook his head. “That is why I insisted on your coming here.”

“Did you know about this?” his gaze turned to Snape.

“I had no idea,” the potions master sneered. “The one you should ask is that mutt you call a godfather.”

“Look, Pr… Severus,” he ran his hand through his hair in frustration, “a simple no would’ve sufficed. I’m not asking you to be nice to Sirius, cause he’s not nice to you, but the least you could do is not talk bad about him in front of me. Cause he may be a lot of things, but he’s still my godfather and the closest thing I’ve ever had to a dad. You can rag on James all you want, cause I didn’t know the man, but leaves Sirius out of it.”

All eyes stared at the couple, who were now glaring at each other, in slight confusion. None of them were quite sure how to respond to this situation.

“Well,” Quatre clapped his hands, successfully breaking the mounting tension, “we just had lunch, but if you’re hungry, I can have something brought out.”

“We just ate,” Wufei shook his head.

“Okay,” the blond nodded. “Then why don’t we all go to the living room and we can talk and get to know one another?”

“You go ahead,” Wufei shook his head, “I’m going to take Charlie upstairs and show him where we’ll be staying.”

“Sounds good,” he smiled and then looped his arm through Harry’s. “Come along, Harry, Mr. Snape, I’ll show you to the living room.”

Wufei didn’t wait around, but grabbed Charlie’s arm and began leading him up the stairs. Once on the second floor, he made his way to the third door on the left. He opened the door and motioned the redhead inside. Charlie walked passed his new husband and sat heavily on the queen sized bed, placing his head in his hands.

“Is something wrong?” the former Shenlong pilot asked once the door was closed.

“It just hit me how much we don’t know about each other,” the redhead shook his head. “I mean, I can’t compete with this,” he waved vaguely around the room. “I don’t think I could ever compete with all this, not in this lifetime.”

“I’m not asking you to, Charlie,” Wufei frowned.

“Look, Wufei,” he didn’t seem to hear the other, “up until recently I spent ninety percent of the year on a field in Romania. I have a small apartment in London. And this year, I’m going to be a teacher. You think that’s gonna pay well? I can’t provide all this for you.”

“Charlie,” the Chinese man was in front of him in an instant and took the redhead’s face in his hands and forced him to look at him. “First of all, I have a job. I am a Preventer agent. I don’t need you to ‘provide’ me with shit. I’m not some weak woman. Secondly, this,” he motioned around the room, “is not mine. I grew up on a condemned colony in the L5 cluster. When I was fourteen, the Alliance tried to destroy it with my clan still on it. I am not used to ‘all this,’ as you so kindly put it. This belongs to Quatre, who insists that whenever we’re in the same place we stay at one of his houses, whether we want to or not. So stop comparing yourself to Quatre Raberba Winner, there are very few in this world who can. But I’m not asking or expecting you to be Quatre Raberba Winner, all I’m asking is that you be Charlie Weasley-Chang. Think you can manage that?”

“I think I can do that,” the redhead smiled and slipped his arms around the other’s waist, pulling him close and claiming his lips in a languid kiss.

After a moment, Wufei pulled back, “Okay. We should probably get back to the others, before Maxwell decides to come looking for me.”

“You know,” Charlie shook his head and took Wufei’s hand, entwining their fingers, “we’ve been going out for what, three months now? I think it’s time I met your friends.”

“Well, considering we’re now married, and I’ve met your entire family,” the former Shenlong pilot smirked, “you’re probably right.”

They both laughed as they left the room and made their way back down the stairs to the others. They entered the living room just as the braided man was finishing an obviously funny story as most of the others were laughing.

“No, no, no, I shit you not, I shot this guy twice to keep him from shooting this bitch, and what does she do? The crazy bitch runs over to him and starts bandaging his wounds and starts fucking telling me off for shooting him.”

“Maxwell,” Wufei groaned as he and Charlie took a seat on the empty love seat, “do you have to tell that story every time you meet someone new?”

“You’re just jealous, Wuffers,” Maxwell waved him off.

“Right,” onyx eyes rolled in annoyance. “Charlie, allow me to introduce my friends. The braided menace to society over there is Duo Maxwell. The blond next to him is his boyfriend and the owner of this house, Quatre Raberba Winner. On the next couch, you know Bill, of course, and my friend and his fiancé, Trowa Barton. Then we have Zechs Merquise, or Milliardo Peacecraft, whichever he feels in the mood to go as that day. And finally the brunet beside him is his boyfriend, Heero Yuy.”

“It’s nice to meet you all,” the redhead nodded at everyone.


End file.
